


impulse (buy)

by airdeari



Series: self-indulgent aoilight within [8]
Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, Three Little Words, texting for sarcastic jerks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airdeari/pseuds/airdeari
Summary: me: yeah I think I should probably take a break from writing ZE fics for a while, maybe get back to writing some other stuffalso me: *is a lying sack of trash, hasn't seen his partner in 4 months and uses writing as an emotional crutch, lies awake in bed at 2 am giggling about Light using a cellphone and going shopping* .........whoops





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: if you know anything about being a stock broker I'm sorry because I did not feel like doing research on that

Aoi suppressed a groan when his phone gave a short buzz in his hand. He swept aside the pages of legalese and research cluttering his desktop to pull up the application that synced with his messages, waiting for it to refresh.

The notification bubble appeared next to Light’s name—or rather, next to his nickname of the week, which was currently an affectionate “piece of shit trashbag”, though an ellipsis cut off his esteemed moniker after the “shi” inside the title of the conversation page. Aoi smiled at a photo of an opened dozen of eggs, the last pair half out of the frame.

`**Aoi:** looks good`

All of Light’s messages went through a text-to-voice translator, so it was more efficient to send him voice messages when possible. Unfortunately, Aoi was currently engrossed in a call with a repeat client trying to come up with an investment plan for the new gratuitous income she was now receiving from yet another successful business venture. He wanted to be mad at the moguls on the other side of his phone calls as they slipped brags into the conversation at every opportunity, but then he remembered the automated email he had received yesterday to calculate the current net worth of his investment profile. He was one of the moguls.

The phone vibrated again, shortly before another photo popped up in the computer-based inbox. It was the front face of a milk carton, blurred by an unsteady hand. Aoi expanded the photo take up his whole screen but still could not make out any numbers in the grey fuzz above the brand label.

`**Aoi:** cant read the date. its probably fine just get it`

A blinking ellipsis popped up from the other side, which was unusual for Light.

`**piece:** It’s your cake.`

The reply was complete with full stop, because Light would painstakingly dictate those details of punctuation for the sake of proper mechanics. Aoi smirked.

`**Aoi:** its clovers cake lets be real`

He read details of several tried-and-true investment plans to the woman on the other side of the phone. She turned up her long, sharp nose—he had only met her in person once, but he remembered her nose sticking far out from her face over her pursed, burgundy lips, making even deeper holes for her withered eyes lined in aubergine—at each of the proposals. Ordinarily he would be cracking his knuckles against the desk to keep and getting snappy, and the constant buzzing on his phone would just drive him closer to the edge, but every out-of-context snapshot of the convenience store brought a smile to his lips. It wasn’t just that he was fond of the photographer, or that the pictures were often out of focus or had only captured half of the intended subject. What was most charming was that Light did not have to send a single word alongside the photo for Aoi to know what was needed.

A picture of the snack aisle.

`**Aoi:** pretzels 3 rows up 11 from left. chips 4x7`

A picture of a box of cake mix sitting in Light’s shopping basket.

`**Aoi:** chocolate wins the cake mix blind lottery`

“You know, I just don’t think that’s a good idea,” said the woman on the other end of the line, her voice sliding from a pitch that screeched across the low-bit-rate call to a deep vocal fry. “I don’t want all that money going overseas, you know, I… I don’t think it’s _safe_.”

Aoi rolled his eyes as he settled his forehead into his empty hand and tried to slow his sigh enough so that it would not be audible when the air passed through his lips. For a man whose name was Aoi Kurashiki, he got a surprising number of xenophobic customers. Just when he was about to lose his patience, his phone buzzed, which had already begun to trigger a Pavlovian response in him where his lips tugged towards a smile and his mouse shifted to the conversation, awaiting the arriving photo. In the picture that popped up, Light had his brow knit in concentration, the edge of his fingertip creating pink fuzz in the corner of the image.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson, could you hold for about ten seconds?” Aoi asked, his voice even more polite when it came through a smile. “I need to take care of a high-priority item.”

He muted her call. On his computer, he held down the microphone icon next to the textbox. It expanded, awaiting his vocal input.

“That’s a very cute selfie, babe.”

He picked up the phone and thanked his client for her patience before launching into the benefits and drawbacks of investing in U.S. bonds. She sounded less hesitant in her short replies.

`**piece:** Is the camera reverse button in the top right corner of the screen?`  
`**Aoi:** yes`

“We can get you a higher return value the longer the bond takes to mature,” Aoi rattled on, clicking his mouse and tapping on a few more keys, “so what I usually do with my clients is stagger the bonds so you’ll see your returns over the course of many years. Now, in your profile…”

` **_Aoi Kurashiki_ ** _changed **piece of shit trashbag** ’s conversation name to **perfect disaster**._ `

Light’s next photo was correctly oriented, but for once, Aoi did not know what guidance was needed. He dragged the window larger to see the mosaic of pastels that was the greeting card aisle. His phone buzzed again in his hand and he waited for the explanation to arrive onscreen, preceded by three blinking dots.

`**perfect:** Pick one out for yourself.`

Aoi disguised a laugh with a cough and an “excuse me” before resuming his explanation of the different plan lengths and their expected turnover.

`**Aoi:** birthday cards on the left`  
`**Aoi:** this is styupid dont`

Ms. Jackson at last sounded satisfied, and she was already familiar with Aoi’s service charges. The discussion did not come to an end after their verbal agreement, or when Ms. Jackson confirmed she had received the appropriate contracts in her email inbox. She was one of those clients who thought she was familiar enough with “Mr. Curra-sheeky” that she could talk to him about her latest vacation to one of those tropical islands named after a saint.

`**perfect:** I’m very certain I have selected a fantastic birthday card.`  
`**Aoi:** purt it back I hate you`

A picture popped up of the short line in front of the cash register.

`**Aoi:** im gonna change your name to piece of shit trashbag again`

There was a pause while Light paid and while Ms. Jackson complained about the high temperatures of a tropical island. Aoi had never heard his conversational interjections sound as engaged as when he had a stupid smile on his face while he traced his finger in a listless circle around the trackpad, waiting for the next message.

`**perfect:** I must have missed the notification. What have you changed it to?`

` **_Aoi Kurashiki_ ** _changed **perfect disaster** ’s conversation name to **piece of shit trashbag again**._ `

` **_piece of shit trashbag again_ ** _changed **Aoi Kurashiki** ’s conversation name to **Incorrigible comedian**._ `

` **_Incorrigible comedian_ ** _changed **piece of shit trashbag again** ’s conversation name to **how the fuck did you do that wis**._ `

`**Incorrigible:** with voice commands`  
`**Incorrigible:** but you couldnt do the camera`  
`**how:** You shouldn’t text so much while you’re on the phone with a customer, dear.`

Aoi lost track of the words running through his ear when he read that text. Throughout the last few weeks, they had noticed that, although Aoi’s overall tendency was to receive, when paired with this other receiver, he was, by a narrow margin, the natural transmitter of the two. He gave another well-placed "mhm" to his rambling client as he pounded on the keys with his free hand.

` **_Incorrigible comedian_ ** _changed **how the fuck did you do that wis** ’s conversation name to **morphogenetic asshole**._ `

`**Incorrigible:** did you fucjin look at my screen to figure out where the button was`  
`**morphogenetic:** That name has a ring to it like it’s going to stick for the next week or too.`  
`**Incorrigible:** and you heard her shes just ranting about how goddamn rich she is`

` **_morphogenetic asshole_ ** _changed **Incorrigible comedian** ’s conversation name to **Deer**._ `

`**Deer:** YOU PIECE OF SHIT IT DID THR ANIM,AL`

` **_Deer_ ** _changed **morphogenetic asshole** ’s conversation name to **morphogenetic FUCLKWAD**._ `

` **_Deer_ ** _restored their conversation name to default ( **Aoi Kurashiki** )._ `

The next message to pop up was a blurred, poorly-lit photo of the apartment stairwell. Within the minute, Aoi heard the key turn in the door down the hall just before it squeaked open. He waited on the edge of his seat for the gentle rap of Light’s knuckles against the bedroom door, but he sooner heard the refrigerator door falling shut.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” asked Ms. Jackson in an uncharacteristic moment of something close to self-awareness. “You mentioned something earlier, something high-priority…”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Aoi replied, twirling his chair away from the desk. “I’ve… _mostly_ taken care of that, I can get to it after our call.”

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you! Is there anything more you need from me?”

The pleasantries of ending a conversation lasted through to when Aoi flipped on the light switches in the kitchen, where, oblivious to the dim of twilight, Light was running one hand along the cupboard shelves while holding the box of chocolate cake mix in the other. He smiled over his shoulder when he heard Aoi’s customer service voice approaching, but still jumped a little when Aoi slid a hand around his waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks for shopping, morphogenetic fuckwad,” Aoi whispered in Light’s ear, the phone pulled away from his face.

“It was fuckle-quad, dear,” Light corrected in a soft voice. “Your one-handed typing is as entertaining to listen to as ever.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what i was thinking about in bed at 2 am that made me roll around laughing instead of sleeping. hope u have a chuckle too

Clover’s restrained giggles floated in from the right over the thin sound of tearing paper to the left. Aoi sighed as textured cardstock slid against its envelope. There was a soft thud of his arm dropping onto the table.

“For your _seventh_ birthday,” he read with a groan.

Clover could not hold her mouth closed any longer and the sound turned to fully fledged laughter.

“You picked a real treasure, Light,” Aoi grumbled. “There’s flowers and butterflies, and there’s pink glitter all over the—”

“I was aware of the glitter,” replied Light, folding his hands in front of his smile. “I wanted to pick something texturally unique. Hence, also, the non-rectangular shape of the card.”

“You didn’t notice it’s kind of in the shape of a _seven_?”

“Why do you think I would care about such a thing if I specifically picked the card with glitter on the face?”

Aoi sighed again, even more heavily. With the lilt of a dramatic reading, he resumed, “For your _seventh_ birthday, _granddaughter_ …”

The plates and silverware rattled when Clover banged a fist on the table. Her laughter began to echo harshly—she had dropped her face to the table’s wooden surface. The sound grew muffled as she wrapped her arms around her head.

“Why’d you even buy a greeting card, anyway?” Aoi asked. “I mean, I feel like even if you weren’t blind, you’d still be the kinda guy who gives people some immaculate hand-written original poem on every special occasion.”

“I wouldn’t subject you to poetry on your birthday, Aoi.”

“Oh, _wouldn’t_ you?”

Light heard the wobble of glossy cardstock as it moved too quickly in Aoi’s hand.

“ _Granddaughter_ , on this special _day_ ,” he read, “we celebrate you in every _way_.”

Clover tried so hard to stifle her laugh that she snorted, and then that made her laugh even harder. Light held a hand to his eyes, pressing against one temple with his thumb and the other with his middle and ring fingers, as a sheepish grin spread on his lips.

“You’re kind and smart and _pretty_ , too, _dot dot dot_.”

Clover’s voice was rising to a pitch it did not ordinarily reach. Light waited with a quivering smile for Aoi to open the card and reveal the final line, but after the swish of the card opening, he said nothing for a long moment. When he spoke again, after a bright sigh, there was a weakness to his voice that came from holding back laughter.

“On _top_ ,” he said, “of the printed words.”

Clover screeched with laughter before she heard the rest, banging both hands against the table again and again.

“That’s where Light decided to sign the card.”

Light was not sure whether he envisioned it or, for a small moment, he saw the card through Aoi’s eyes. The blue flourish of his signature crossed over the black print, almost rendering it illegible. Light held his head in both hands and shook it, shaking with silent laughter, while Clover gasped so desperately for air that he was sure she was crying.

“Seriously, I have to know,” Aoi said, sliding the card back to the table, “do you do this for everyone? Are you always this much fun at parties?”

“No-o-o-o, he _never_ ,” Clover laughed. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe—pfff _hahahah!_ ”

The chair to the left scooted a significant length across the floor, enough to allow someone seated in it to rise. Light lifted his chin to follow this expected trajectory, keeping eye contact with closed eyes, until he felt a cool hand turn his chin a few degrees. It was how Aoi touched him just before a kiss, this one soft and chaste, but slow. Aoi kept his hand on Light’s face after their lips separated, which ordinarily meant he was planning another kiss, but they were never so affectionate when Clover was present, even if she had buried her face in her hands and was laughing uncontrollably.

There was another card, the handwritten and poetic one Aoi had guessed at, lying in Light’s desk drawer. Yesterday he had changed his mind about delivering it for the way it incorporated words the young men had not yet spoken aloud to one another.

“I love you,” Aoi said softly.

His hand trailed away. Alongside Clover’s oblivious, dwindling giggles, Light heard the slide and stack of plates. Aoi’s footsteps glided to the dishwasher. He had spoken without expecting a response.


	3. Chapter 3

Aoi was the first to retire to the bedroom that night, after Light insisted he had some ideas to work out with his harp first. At his bedside, Aoi found yet another envelope with his name. The cursive was Light’s hand; he was likely the only Generation Z kid in the world still using cursive, simply because it helped him keep better track of where each letter fell because he so rarely had to pick up his pen. Aoi had watched him write notes before, sliding his left hand down the page to keep his lines level.

The card had a watercolor scene of a forest stream on its cover. Aoi stopped looking at it when he realized Light could not have picked the image intentionally. Inside were lines of his practiced cursive, broken into something between poetry and prose.

_Aoi,_

_You have asked me not to make a fuss of the date, but I could think of no better time to write that which I have not been able to say aloud, not for lack of want, but of courage._

_I imagine I am as foggy in your mind’s eye as you are in mine. The chasm between us is too wide yet, as it always is between new souls seeing each other for the first time. We take two steps closer, then another back. It is a tantalizing dance, but our inhibition is high, our guards are raised. We dare not fall into one another’s arms for fear we would not be caught._

_In this midst of this fog, my tongue dances across words I have been taught not to say yet._

_I can count the weeks on my fingers. But I have held your cloudy image in my mind for years. I have known you for time beyond time, in worlds we have felt in our hearts without living them. Perhaps that is why I feel those words burning in my chest every time I hear your voice, or touch your hand, or wake up next to you._

_I play the harp differently when I know you are near. The melodies fall into tranquility so warm it exceeds peace and has transcended into love. You say you do not want a gift, which is just as well, because I do not know how to promise what I want to give you: a year of something more than peace._

_Happy birthday, Aoi._

_Love, Light_

Aoi was still staring blankly at the card when the door creaked open. The sounds of the harp had died away sometime while he was reading, and the harpist had a knot in his brow when he entered his bedroom. He touched the light switch, and when he found it on, he called softly, “Aoi?”

“Y-yeah, sorry, I’m… here,” Aoi stammered. His voice struggled to escape his throat, which was why he had not given a customary noise of greeting to let his presence be known when Light first opened the door.

Light hesitated in the doorway. The crease did not leave his brow. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

Aoi stared at the letter, his lips slightly parted, but he could find nothing to say, no appropriate response. Instead, he asked the frivolous question that had entered his head by the end of the first stanza, or paragraph.

“How come you don’t write lyrics for your songs?”

Light got a shy smile on his face as he took slow steps towards the bed. “I can’t sing, for one.”

“You’ve got a nice voice,” Aoi said.

Light’s eyelids fluttered as his smile fell. “When have you heard…?”

“No, not singing, I mean in general,” Aoi explained. “Like, you could just… recite somethin’ while you’re playing. It kinda goes with your vibe.”

“I _have_ written a book,” Light said quietly, as if reluctant to admit it.

“I know. Akane flipped out when she saw it because she thought you might do some kinda exposé on the Nonary Games, and then it was just your dorky poetry.”

“Does that mean she’s read it?”

“You fuckin’ know I was the one who read it ’cuz I still had a massive goddamn crush on you.”

It was one thing when the words were in another space, when Aoi envisioned them spoken to an invisible audience. It was another entirely when the audience vanished and the tapestry of writing was woven around only him, wrapping him in beauty, honesty, and affection.

He sat up when Light ran his hand over the duvet, checking for an errant foot before sitting. Aoi took his hand, then his arm, to lead him safely to the pillow without crushing any limbs. His arms slid around Light’s narrow chest, against which he pressed his cheek.

“Thanks for the card,” he mumbled.

“Had I an ounce of your talent for acting on impulse, you might not have had to suffer through it,” replied Light. “I hope it wasn’t too poetic?”

Aoi smirked. “Actually, it went way over my head. Couldja sum it up in, I dunno, three words?”

Light’s gentle laugh reverberated in his chest, where his heartbeat went through a gentle swell of acceleration. He pressed his lips to Aoi’s hair and murmured, “I love you, too.”

“That’s four words,” Aoi said. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Then I rescind my previous statement.”

“Fuck you.”

“Would you like to? It is your birthday.”

“Oh, _fuck_ you. After your sister heads out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)
> 
> Fun fact: this is 100% what it's like to get a love letter from me because I am a melodramatic sap
> 
> Thanks for reading! There should be more coming soon about these losers because, as I may have previously stated, I cannot control myself :''')


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